


Mollymauk Tealeaf, Hedonist Extraordinaire

by lbk_princen



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Fictional Religion & Theology, First Time, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-17 17:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbk_princen/pseuds/lbk_princen
Summary: When you have an adult body and no memories, it's easiest to focus on the physical things.





	Mollymauk Tealeaf, Hedonist Extraordinaire

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an exploration of Molly's sensualist lifestyle before the M9 but it kinda spiraled into other stuff as well. I was gonna write about him experimenting with substances but I ran out of steam before I could get there. Maybe I will add it in later if I ever get around to writing it.

It was six months into his life as Mollymauk that he discovered sex. He knew what sex _was,_ of course, and he had quickly picked up on innuendo; but he wasn’t sure quite yet what all the fuss was about. It was interesting, though, the way others talked about it. When Orna described some of her encounters in great detail, Molly listened with delighted fascination.

One of the more pleasant things about waking up in an unfamiliar body with no memory is the opportunity to _learn_ and _explore._ Late at night when the work was done, Molly would stretch out in his small personal tent and explore himself. He usually started at his face and worked his way down to the tip of his tail, discovering what parts of his body liked to be caressed softly, and what parts liked to be grabbed and squeezed. The scars added an interesting texture, as did the ridges on his horns. His tail tingled pleasantly when he smacked it against things like the ground or his own leg. It was in that environment that he got to know carnal pleasure for the first time, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his laughter after the fact had woken some of the other carnies.

It was after six months that Molly invited someone else into that exploration.

He’d been at a tavern with Gustav and Bosun, fresh into town and looking for an evening to unwind and mingle, perhaps casually slip carnival fliers into people’s hands after a few exchanged words. Molly was spreading cards for people, still practicing their meanings, when a human woman with curly black hair slid into the seat beside him. Her skin was olive-toned and she had a few beauty spots scattered across her skin -- not frequent or small enough to be considered freckles. Molly flashed her a smile and she smiled back.

“You’re quite a colourful fellow,” the woman said by way of greeting.

Molly’s smile grew into a grin and he gathered up his cards in order to face her properly in the booth they were squished into. “That I am. Mollymauk Tealeaf, at your service.” He gave a somewhat modest bow, his posturing limited by the small space. He asked for her name and she gave it. They chatted back and forth for the better part of thirty minutes.

“Where are you staying tonight?” the woman asked, resting her hand on Molly’s knee.

Molly liked her. She had a charming laugh and a pretty smile and her hands were skinny but work-hardened. He glanced over to Gustav, who was watching everything over the rim of his tankard with eyebrows raised. Molly looked back to the woman and leaned in towards her conspiratorially. She leaned in as well.

“Normally I bed down with these lunatics,” he whispered, like it was a secret. “But I’m sure they won’t miss me for one night.”

The woman grinned and Molly grinned back, and it wasn’t long before she was leading him by the hand up the stairs of the tavern to where the rooms were. Molly turned at the last moment to flash Gustav and Bo a grin and a thumbs-up.

It turned out that exploring bodies was even more fun with a partner. His pets and pokes and pinches were met with giggles, his licks and nibbles were met with other soft, encouraging sounds. The woman was patient with him, just as invested as going slow and feeling good as he was. It was an extremely good evening, as evenings went.

In the morning Molly stretched out in the bed, feeling the warmth of the body beside him, and was pleased by the dull ache in his muscles. The reminder of a night well-spent. He kissed her bare shoulder, than the crown of her curls, before tugging on his clothes and heading back to home.

His family welcomed him, and the more crude of the bunch pressed for details. Molly teased them with the information but ultimately withheld -- that was between him, her, and the tavern’s shoddy linens.

Over time he got to know many people this way, people of all varieties in a multitude of places he couldn’t bother remembering the names of. Women, men, and everything in between. Humans, half-orcs, elves, tieflings, even a halfling once. Conversation is all well and good but _pleasure_ is a language too and Mollymauk was determined to be fluent in its every dialect. People were _interesting,_ and Molly enjoyed learning what they had to say, both through their words and through their bodies. Each time was new and exciting, seeing what his partner for the evening could do, what he could try, what they had to offer each other.

To him it was just another activity, something one did to feel good, and by the gods did he feel good doing it.

 

* * *

 

Molly didn't care to keep track of where the carnival went, he just packed up the tents and enjoyed the scenery they passed. Directions and names of places were boring to him; who cared about words when the sights and smells and sounds and tastes were so much more interesting. He remembered places by the experiences he had there. Though he didn't know the name of the town, he would always remember the place he was introduced to the Moonweaver.

They had picked up a newcomer a couple weeks ago, a hulking human-looking woman with matted hair and mismatched eyes. Being close to her made his hackles rise, which was utterly foreign and utterly interesting to him. When she looked at him his hair stood on end and Infernal phrases bubbled into his head. Something about her curdled his fiendish blood. The rest of him however, adored her. Eventually those physical sensations lessened the more he spent time around her, talking to her. They ended up as a pair, allowing Molly to go into the towns and villages to busk and garner attention for the carnival without Gustav or Bo or someone else whose time was better spent practicing having to make sure he stayed out of trouble.

In this current town, Molly had set up his busking in the town square, with Yasha standing a couple feet away, her arms crossed. Molly sat on his jacket, cards shuffling and mouth grinning invitingly to anyone who glanced his way. Eventually he managed to hook a passerby into sitting with him, and he spread their cards for them. They were a half-elf with long hair but an inscrutable gender. When they spoke they had a curve to their words that Molly had never heard before, and their garb was also foreign to him. When he drew the Moon card, they let out a small chuckle.

"Does this have meaning for you?" he asked, tracing the two lunar bodies depicted on the face of the card.

The half-elf tilted their head back and forth for a moment, obviously deliberating their answer. "You seem like you can keep a secret," they eventually said in their throaty, rounded accent.

Molly leaned in closer, always eager to learn something new about someone else. "That I can, friend."

Carefully, the half-elf drew a silver necklace out from beneath their shirt, cupping the charm on the end so only Molly could see it. "I am from the Menagerie Coast, originally," they confided. "Worship in the Empire is so controlled, so I must stay discreet, but I am a faithful of the Moonweaver."

Molly studied the charm in their hands. It was quite pretty. "I don't know much about the Moonweaver," he admitted, keeping his voice low. "But you know, my first memory is of the moons."

It wasn't a lie, either. Molly didn't spend a lot of time dwelling on memories, but on the rare occasion he did try to think back, the earliest thing he remembered was the taste of iron in his mouth and two silvery circles staring down at him, stark against a black sky and draped with thin grey clouds. Surrounded by dirt and cold, they had been comforting to him then.

The half-elf smiled and slipped the necklace back down their shirt. "Perhaps that means she watches over you as well," they said.

Molly finished their reading and invited them to come see the carnival, or at least come find him again before he had to leave town. They agreed, and when they met again the two of them talked about moons and memories and fate and obligation; it was the most philosophical conversation Molly had ever had, but he agreed with most of the things his new friend had to say.

"If you're going to take this up," the half-elf cautioned. "Just be careful. Keep any iconography close to your chest. Most Crownsguard won't hesitate to arrest you for wearing anything unapproved."

Molly thanked them for their time and their words and sent them on their way.

That night he found the moons in the sky before heading into his tent. One was a waning crescent, the other was waxing. He stared up at them, and felt comfort settle in his chest. The moons had been nice enough to him in the past. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his Tarot deck and rifled through it until he found the Moon card. Closing his eyes, he pressed the card to his lips. It was the first time in his short life he felt reverential. It was nice. Perhaps not as nice as sex, but still nice. A different kind of intimacy -- not the kind shared between two mortals, but the kind shared between a mortal and the world in which they walk.

He bought a brass brooch depicting the Platinum Dragon and wore it proudly on his jacket, and every time someone commented on it or nodded to him while wearing anything similar, he smiled back but laughed in the back of his head. Mysterious like the moons; beautiful but obfuscated most of the time. It felt good. It felt right.

**Author's Note:**

> idk if it's because i'm feeling insecure about my writing or if it's just bc i'm posting this late at night but this fic feels VERY vulnerable for me for some reason idk please just be gentle if you plan to leave a comment


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